


when it blooms

by taonsils (mirokkuma)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Sexuality Crisis, idk what to tell you its just gays talking about being gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-25 10:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18259241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirokkuma/pseuds/taonsils
Summary: “I read your interview and I’m curious. You said you wanted to go to Italy for the men.”





	when it blooms

**Author's Note:**

> detail-wise this is Basically canon compliant wrt to jm’s poly squad adventures, the interview, and the overall referenced timeline, I just had to change which area of japan jm visited :x (also had to restructure the ENTIRE thing bc he was back in sk before I was even a full paragraph in, calm down modelmyeon. this starts from March 21st. I don’t normally write at this speed anyway but literally his plans were changing so fast I had to keep CHANGING THINGS I’m exhausted)
> 
> I don’t super know what the point of this is, I’m just a simple suyeolist getting distressed by their similar yet separate activities and starting this opened a floodgate of feelings over how differently they approach liking men and how some things are easier to discuss away from home. slightly spoilery commentary: it can definitely be viewed either as platonic Or leading, whichever you get the feeling for!
> 
>  
> 
> I haven’t been to ueno in many years and really needed this finished asap so didn’t fact check my memory, apologies for inaccuracies!

There’s only one tree blooming in the whole of Japan, according to the map shown on tv this morning. For the twenty further seconds it took Chanyeol to finish last night’s leftovers he considered catching a train and going there, but he’s supposed to be apartment sitting, and he’d rather see the blossoms in an area he’s familiar with. It’s an excuse for another quick visit next month. And anyway, the map was wrong. 

Chanyeol speeds up to a jog, racing no one to the cloud of pink he can see around the end of the street. The area is part-residential part-offices and totally empty at this time of day, the wide streets stark and sun bleached. The slap of his sneakers against the white paving echoes. He’d planned to buy last minute tickets to a friend of a friend’s concert and taken an unfamiliar metro line out here to the venue, but the merch queue was already winding around the building. The girls crouching with their phones and chatting to each other probably wouldn’t have noticed him, let alone recognised him, but sometimes self-care is not risking it at all.

On closer inspection it’s actually a plum, not cherry tree. Chanyeol’s not picky - it’s pretty either way. He pulls out his phone, swipes the camera open, and as he lines up a shot is immediately blinded by the sun reflecting off the large glass fronted building behind the branches.

He ducks away a step and his back bumps someone, hard enough that he hears them fall forward two paces. “ _Sorry, please excuse me_ ,” Chanyeol blurts reflexively, turning with his head bowed. You get skilled at quick multilingual apologies when you’re a giant with clumsy limbs. It’ll ruin his already downhill day if he’s just disturbed an angry old woman (or worse, a student cutting class and likely to recognise him). 

There’s only one cherry tree blossoming in Japan, and it isn’t here. And there’s only one Kim Junmyeon in the world, and he..is in Japan?

“Chanyeollie?” he laughs, tugging the brim of his hat back like Chanyeol really needs to see more of his face to identify him. He looks pleasantly surprised, and that’s surprising in itself. “I didn’t know you were over here too.”

 _Too_ , like he was here first. This is Chanyeol’s special place. “Shouldn’t you be in Paris or something?” Chanyeol crosses his arms, “Italy, or something. LA.” He doesn’t even know why his instinctive reaction is sullen. “Small world, huh.”

“Right?” Junmyeon gestures between them. There’s a photo editing app open on his phone and a closeup of the petals taking up the screen. “Even if I’d known you’d come over I wouldn’t have expected us to be in the same area. Though I imagine this tree has had a lot of visitors.”

“Right.” Chanyeol’s spent his entire adult life with Junmyeon keeping close track of precisely where everyone is, so it’s kind of weird to realise he is (or, was) off radar. 

Junmyeon smiles, rocking back and forth on the heels of his new-out-the-box shoes. “So. Plans?”

“I’m just,” Chanyeol starts, then finishes with his hands. He caught a plane to come and stay in a friend’s apartment for a few nights as a favour. It helps clear his head after work, being over here and having relative peace when he wants it. He’s gradually accepted that it’s ok to want it. “No, I was just seeing the tree then leaving. I was headed somewhere but it was too crowded. You?” 

“Maybe.”

Chanyeol nods, turning his attention back to the tree. The wind is rustling the petals so his camera can’t focus.

Junmyeon hums, stepping close and up on his toes to peer at the screen. His cheek and the brim of his hat press into Chanyeol’s arm. “I just came here to shop and look pretty, and we’ve already done the shopping.” Chanyeol taps the shutter and Junmyeon purposely leans his weight against him. “I’m free, I mean. Unless you’d like to help me find some walls to match with.”

“Uh.” Chanyeol slips his finger through the ring on the back of his phone and drops his hand to his side, pushing Junmyeon away in the process. He’s all purple and green and..beige, yellow, fleecy, socks showing. Revolting. “You’re overestimating my knowledge of the area.”

Junmyeon sticks close to Chanyeol’s side as he moves away from the tree and back onto the sidewalk. “Show me around and maybe we’ll find something along the way, then? Kyungsoo seemed impressed by your tour guide work.”

Uh. Chanyeol’s still kind of processing that Junmyeon’s clearly already made up his mind to follow him and that this is even happening. Throwing Kyungsoo into the equation doesn’t help. And Junmyeon said _we_. “Is that. ok?” he taps his nails along the hard case of his phone, then slips it into his pocket. “Will he mind? The guy you’re..”

“No? No, I’m..” Junmyeon laughs, scrunchy and fond. Like it’s a sweet mistake, not an offensive one. “I’m not dating Junghoon.”

“Oh. You always seem to be going places with him? -Wait. That was a dumb thing to say.” How’s he supposed to navigate them back to a station he’s only visited once _and_ have an awkward private conversation out in the open at midday. “I just didn’t want to overstep, or something.”

Junmyeon’s giving him the eyebrow. They step into the shadow of a row of apartment blocks, and he shivers and looks ahead to where the sunlight starts again. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Chanyeol says, because it really doesn’t. There’s a twinge of something he doesn’t like the feeling of - guilt or defensiveness, maybe. Missing out. Guilt, he’ll take that. “I just don’t know which ones you have a thing with.”

“I know it doesn’t matter.” Junmyeon seems awfully bouncy walking along compared to Chanyeol’s shuffle-steps. Must be his stupid buoyant shoes. “And you’re not. He’d probably thank you for taking over as my personal photographer.”

Sehun knows. Sehun and Zitao, even that long ago, they’d sometimes meet with men Chanyeol only recognised from when Junmyeon would make a beeline to them backstage. Chanyeol’s definitely smiled in a photo with one of them, Junmyeon in his arms and smiling wider, but he doesn’t know his name.

Now he thinks of it, Chanyeol’s actually barely seen Junmyeon since the start of the year. Junmyeon always seems to have work or company or somewhere to be, and Chanyeol’s almost fully moved out of the dorm now. They video call most weeks out of habit, or so Junmyeon can check in on things when he’s across the globe. Nothing awkward about habitual working relationships.

 

“It’s two sixty,” Chanyeol says after scanning the list of stations and thumbing the touch screen. Junmyeon holds up a pass in a little branded case, because of fucking course he does. The ticket machine beeps loudly at Chanyeol to remind him of his handful of change.

“You think I date possessive guys?” Junmyeon asks over his shoulder as he passes through the ticket barrier.

It’d be easy to just stay on this side and run, Chanyeol thinks, then feeds his ticket in. “I was being considerate.”

Junmyeon plants his little hands on his little hips, looking all of three feet tall in his oversized shoes and bucket hat. “You think I date guys who wouldn’t like me spending time with a close friend and colleague.”

“Just because you’re hard to recognise doesn’t mean I am,” Chanyeol replies, opening his arms in gesture to the fact he’s dressed exactly like always. There are four other people heading to the same platform. They probably know as much about the kind of men Junmyeon dates as Chanyeol.

 

There’s something definitely awkward about feeling a little lost for words with someone you’ve talked to nearly every day for ten years. God. Ten years and he still can’t figure out what half of Junmyeon’s smiles _mean_. It’s very rare that they have each other’s undivided attention. Junmyeon insists Chanyeol sits - he knows he still gets back pain - and he stands in front of him, dangling from the handhold there.

“I had no idea Tokyo could be so quiet.” Junmyeon sways with the movement of the train. Only one of the people waiting on their platform got into this car, and there were only three already here.

“This isn’t a main subway route. But it’s always like this after rush hour,” Chanyeol shrugs, “Once everyone’s at work or already out where they need to be. I usually sleep late and come out late so it’s empty like this.”

“You’d hate travelling with me,” Junmyeon smiles, “I started writing itineraries, I hated finding out how many things I’d missed once I’d already left. And then I started fitting things into the empty slots on the itinerary. When we were in Rome we ended up visiting the colosseum three times, but it was nice seeing it at different times of day.”

“I bet.” Chanyeol flicks the sharp corner of his ticket with the pad of a finger. Another _we_. Chanyeol didn’t really keep up with any of that trip on Instagram. Is it always..Junghoon? He’s the only one Chanyeol recognises well enough to notice repeat appearances. 

“So what do you come over here for all the time?” Junmyeon asks. They’ve stopped at Kokkai-Gijidomai, but Chanyeol can barely read that in his head, let alone try to get his tongue around announcing it. Still underground, nothing to look at. One person gets on and sits as far from them as possible. “You never talk to me about these things, Chanyeollie. Just up and leave. What if I wanted to visit your new place and you were here?” 

“I just.” Chanyeol shrugs again. Junmyeon’s close to eye level with him, and the dark circles he’s had since he was 18 are finally gone. These vacations are doing him good. “Depends. Work on music sometimes, see bands,” he smiles unintentionally, mouth pulling crooked, “Make friends with guys from bands I’ve liked since I was a teenager? Networking is weird, but I like it.”

“You’re good at it,” Junmyeon agrees, “A natural people-person. Must be nice.” He laughs only loud enough for Chanyeol to hear, and hooks his wrist through the handhold so he can sway more loosely. It lifts the hem of his fleecy jacket. Under it are two more layers. “I’m better with people I already know. I always go into formal mode when I meet new ones.”

Chanyeol snorts and prods his ticket into Junmyeon’s stomach. “A natural leader-hyung.”

“I know,” Junmyeon pouts and hangs his head. When he smiles and brushes his hair back out of his eyes Chanyeol realises he’s wearing rings. “I just glaze over instinctively. Unless it’s theatre people. That’s different. I’m the least experienced, and everyone’s friendly.”

Their journey finally goes above ground and they both become more interested in the view than each other. As they approach Ginza Junmyeon drops his handhold and shuffles to the door to look out at the tall glittering buildings. He puts his hands against the cold glass, below the sticker of a tearful cartoon crab warning that you shouldn’t put your hands there.

Chanyeol tilts his head back. “That door is going to open. Don’t fall out.” 

“Can we go here?”

Slouching back in his seat, Chanyeol looks straight ahead at the platform rather than out at the view. He’s never been either and doesn’t want the temptation. “You said you already did your shopping. No, you wanted photo spots so I’m taking you to one.”

Two more stops and they switch lines, walking swiftly along a more crowded platform until there are winding stairs, a yellow sign, then another train with only a handful of passengers. Chanyeol tells Junmyeon to sit this time, and after seeing on the small screen above the door that the shortest journey is ten minutes, he does.

“I’ve only heard of..” Junmyeon squints, “Two places on that whole map. I can see why Kyungsoo wanted you around for his trip over here.” 

Chanyeol shrugs and flicks stray bobbles of fleece off Junmyeon’s arm with the edge of his ticket, pretending he isn’t very pleased to know Kyungsoo’s been talking about their visit

“You know,” Junmyeon says as the doors close on Kanda station, “Some fans think you come over here to find men. Boyfriends, I mean,” he amends quickly. He knows Chanyeol; he’d have boyfriends. “Every time you come back you seem to have met someone new who loves you.”

“Last I heard they thought I was hiding a wife here.” Bad end to a nice trip; deleting Weibo so he wouldn’t be tempted to look. It’s been a long while since he’s run to escape fans, and it was probably an overreaction.

“You’re not very up to date.”

“Maybe your sources are biased.” 

“I know which I’d believe.” Junmyeon uncrosses his ankles, scooting more upright in his seat. Chanyeol’s jaw is set, so he can’t be loud. Junmyeon looks at him, and after a moment seems to realise that. “I mean because I know you wouldn’t keep some poor girl a secret from everyone like that, or not tell any of us. And you’d miss her too much.”

Fascinating. Junmyeon seems to know so much about how Chanyeol feels. “No wife, no boyfriends. I just like being here. I make connections, yeah, and some of us become friends. I like making new friends.”

Junmyeon nods. “Well, sometimes I’m just travelling with friends, too.”

“Is this why we never talk at home? Because you just gossip about men?”

“I like talking about art,” Junmyeon replies in his eighth-interview-of-the-day voice. Chanyeol lets the neutrality of it soothe away the little flare of anger rather than stoke it any hotter.

“You like talking about yourself standing in front of art,” he huffs, “Don’t you want to visit a gallery or something rather than hang out with me?”

Junmyeon perks up again. “If I did I’d need someone who can read Japanese to take me there.” 

They don’t see much of each other recently, but Junmyeon’s had this..thing. Like a new light in his eyes. He smiles a lot more than he used to. Chanyeol couldn’t be happier for him, but unfortunately he hasn’t grown less self aware at the same chaotic speed. “Just. Stop, ok? The line gets busier from here. I’m not being all over Japanese twitter for arguing about my wife and boyfriends while you sit there looking like..” 

“It’s Tokyo Fashion week. I think you’ll find everyone knows I look like I came from there.”

 

The first and last time they purposely came out together, just the two of them, was in Japan. After the concert they and Yixing wandered to catch Pokemon, then the next morning Chanyeol and Junmyeon snuck out to find some near the hotel. Counting the years just starts a little ball of sadness forming in Chanyeol’s chest, so he stops. He’d rather be hanging out with Yixing.

Ueno was the best place Chanyeol had been able to think of at short notice, impressive in its size and variety of scenery even if it’s a week early for the blossom. Junmyeon required five photos by the stone steps of the park entrance and another four looking artfully at a totally bare cluster of branches. (It’s not actually a terrible way to spend time. Junmyeon’s enthusiasm means he did good).

 

“It’s quiet at the dorm without you. I knew you wouldn’t come back and visit.”

“Uh, maybe I was there the whole, like, six weeks you’ve spent on vacation. Anyway, you’re the one that makes it loud,” Chanyeol says with his mouth full of scalding hot noodles, poking his wooden chopsticks at Junmyeon. ”You have Sehunnie and Jongin. And like, seven maybe-boyfriends for when none of us are around.”

“Sehunnie will leave soon, too,” Junmyeon sighs. On a weekday with no blossom to draw people to the park all that was open was a yakisoba stand. He’s already eaten all of the slithers of pink pickled ginger, and now he starts picking out the greasy shreds of chicken. “Anyway, you said no more talking about that.” 

“I’m just _saying_ , you’re hardly going to die cold and alone without me around.”

“No one else is you,” Junmyeon says vacantly, prodding through the noodles with a chopstick in each hand. It might be the nicest thing Junmyeon’s ever said. Chanyeol wonders if his ears have turned the same colour as the ginger.

“Why do we keep talking about this?” he asks, leaning an elbow on the table. It’s a picnic bench. They’re by the lake, and it’s kind of cold with the breeze blowing in from its surface. “I know when you’re being persistent, hyung.” 

“Because I’m observant,” Junmyeon looks nonchalant at being called out, “And I remember what you say, and I know when something is different. It’s my job to make sure you’re not having problems.”

Chanyeol misaims and stabs a dent into the styrofoam container. “Problems..What? With you being more open about your boyfriends?”

No, no, Junmyeon shakes his head. “I read your interview and I’m curious. You said you wanted to go to Italy for the men.”

A burst of heat flushes down Chanyeol’s neck and into his stomach. “I didn’t say that. I did. I didn’t mean it like that.” He suddenly doesn’t feel cold anymore. He doesn’t even feel like he knows where he is. “I did. But I wasn’t serious.”

Junmyeon finds another tiny grain of chicken in his noodles and makes it evident he’s going to keep chewing until Chanyeol elaborates. Fine.

“I was serious, but not. With intent.” Chanyeol tries. The interviewer hadn’t asked what he meant, and once a moment has passed all that’s left is speculation. He felt brave the day he said it, knowing it didn’t have to mean anything if he didn’t want it to. “By that I mean..I’m not you, you know? I can’t just. I’m good at making friends wherever I go, but not.. _that_. It’s not something I can do.” Sure he’s thought about it. In London when he collected numbers knowing he’d be leaving in a matter of hours. Paris, adding a guy on Instagram and thinking about him in the shower and responding to his DM with purposeful ignorance.

For how enigmatic Junmyeon can be at times, the look he’s giving Chanyeol is annoyingly transparent. _You can always talk to me about it_. But maybe Chanyeol doesn’t want to talk about why he’s started mentioning boys less carefully over the past eight months. Maybe he would if Junmyeon had cared to talk to him about it four years ago, when he was having panic attacks about his future in the bathroom at 3am, instead of refusing to be alone with Chanyeol out of sheer pettiness.

“And I’m not like Sehunnie,” Chanyeol shrugs. Gay, he means. A gold-star gay, in his little queer club with Junmyeon, with Zitao. “We’re never gonna..that’s not us. I trust you with my life, hyung, you know that. You’ve helped me out so many times,” he says, and Junmyeon nods, “And it’s really- like, it’s cool that you’re comfortable and more open about it now. But this isn’t something I can do like you guys are.”

“You never do.” Junmyeon neatly rests the wooden chopsticks across the container and pushes it aside with his fingertips. “You’re a very burdened person, aren’t you.”

“Considerate,” Chanyeol defends for the second time today, but he doesn’t feel he can defend himself against much else here. Junmyeon’s the one that understands how all of this works and how to come out of it dicked down and glowing rather than feeling like you’re constantly eating dirt. “I know there’s like, balancing, and means and ways, hiding in plain sight..all that stuff. But it’s not something I think I could deal with right now.”

He’s kind of expecting Junmyeon to give him some motivational filler, like _you’d be surprised what you can achieve_. Because if so he’d be right, because Chanyeol’s in a fucking park in Japan talking about how he’d maybe want to meet a guy, to someone who’s probably had twice as many guys as Chanyeol’s even thought about holding hands with.

Instead Junmyeon gives him the most delicate little pout, then says, “Do you want to try?” Chanyeol frowns. He meets Junmyeon’s eye for a moment, then Junmyeon looks away at his watch. “I should head back in a few hours. But until then you could be..what would it be, my eighth? Maybe-boyfriend.”

Chanyeol snorts. The world has officially stopped making any sense at all. “So what are you? The connection I came to make that unintentionally falls in love?” It’s snark, but evidently not snarky enough - Junmyeon beams across at him.

“So they do fall for you!” he says, delighted, then turns a playful scowl on Chanyeol, “Or are you just saying that because you want commitment from me.”

“Hyung, after this long I think I’m already pretty convinced of our dedication to each other,” Chanyeol dismisses. (Obviously he’s not dating anyone unless it’s committed, hypothetical or not.) 

“Then I’m in love with you, unintentionally,” Junmyeon grins, and it only feels a little sour going down. Chanyeol’s unintentionally had confused feelings for a lot of people; it’s not like Junmyeon was special. “Give it a trial run where it’s harmless.”

This is..weird. Not uncomfortable, because he and Junmyeon are far beyond having the capacity to be uncomfortable around each other, but it’s weird. It’s weird that Junmyeon’s in Japan. It’s weird that he’s being nice, and that his secret is so open now, and that he could so easily see how poorly Chanyeol was keeping his own. Chanyeol’s palms are starting to get clammy. “You’re seriously asking me to fake date you?”

Junmyeon waves vaguely. His signet ring sits tight between knuckles, too large for his small hand but too small for the thickness of his finger. “I’m asking you to be my ambiguous male travelling companion for the day. I have a schedule in Seoul tomorrow morning with some other guys, then I’m leaving with Jonginnie for Australia.”

“So you’re going to boyfriend me, then fuck off to another country with another man.”

“Essentially.” Junmyeon smiles into his palm as he rests an elbow on the table, reaching across with the other hand. Chanyeol instinctively takes it, because he’s a goddamn puppy and he’s too well trained. “I mean it’ll be fun just while we’re here, then we can draw a line under it.” Line, equator, same thing. “And then I won’t pester you again like I have today. There hasn’t really been any other suitable time to talk to you about it, so I might have..bombarded you a little, unintentionally.”

“You don’t say.” Chanyeol turns Junmyeon’s hand and prods at the pudgy flesh of his palm. When he first found out, when they still hated each other, he sometimes imagined meaningless, aggressive encounters, just them using each other to drive out the stress and adrenaline. Maybe he’s been kind of in love with Junmyeon ever since he started finding reasons to admire him instead. “Boyfriend me, then. Show me how it’s done,” he grins, but it feels kind of hollow, because this isn’t about him loving Junmyeon at all.

 

Chanyeol paid for both of their meals, and he insists on making the trek a quarter of the way around the lake to dispose of the containers. The walk gives him enough time to tell himself he’s a prize winning fucking moron approximately 28 times, and enough distance to apply lip balm undetected. “You’re into tall guys, right?” Chanyeol asks when they’re standing level again, straightening his shoulders and spine. “So you got lucky with me, huh.”

Junmyeon laughs into his hand. “Sweetheart, I’m dating a professional basketball player.” He coos at the way Chanyeol deflates, hooking their arms together to pull him along.

 

They wander deeper into the park than Chanyeol’s visited by himself, past the zoo and into a clearing that leads to a museum. They’ve missed last admission by twenty minutes. There are benches and more bare trees for Junmyeon to pose thoughtfully with, and a row of stark red Torii that he doesn’t, because he clashes.

Further in there’s a gallery, which Junmyeon is far more pleased about than the museum. He holds Chanyeol’s hand by his fingertips under the counter while their tickets are being taken out of a stack held together with a green band.

“Thank you,” Chanyeol says in Japanese, bowing his head. Junmyeon takes their tickets from the tray with his free hand and squeezes Chanyeol’s fingers before letting go. Unsure if it’s a happy thrill or just guilt, Chanyeol purses his lips and steps ahead.

It’s a small two storey building with waxed floors and few other visitors. They separate, Junmyeon lingering and Chanyeol wandering in search of something colourful and interesting. Junmyeon’s right that they wouldn’t enjoy travelling together. 

Chanyeol takes the stairs by walking right at the edges in case they’re the type that thud hollowly. He looks over the balcony edge and watches Junmyeon’s bucket hat slowly move along a row of paintings, then gets as bored as he is aware of the soreness in his lower spine. For as long as it takes to open Instagram, check if Junmyeon posted a photo of the tree (yes), and feel mildly irritated that he now can’t post his own, Chanyeol sits on the hard leather couch in the centre of the floor. Maybe this is really what being Junmyeon’s boyfriend is like.

“I love Van Gogh,” Junmyeon says sadly, slipping an arm around Chanyeol’s waist and sidling up to him where he’s looking at a backlit framed scroll.

“I know you do, honey.” There’s no one else up here, so Chanyeol rests their heads together. He understands the art of calligraphy, and how it’s about the rhythm and flow and decisiveness, but it’s sure boring to look at. “Maybe next time.”

Junmyeon stays attached to Chanyeol’s side until they wordlessly agree it’s time to head for the stairs. He tells Chanyeol he looks beautiful under the display lights, and Chanyeol reflexively slaps his arm so hard it echoes in the quiet of the gallery.

 

An evening of boyfriending is uneventful, really, but then Chanyeol’s not actually sure what he thought was going to happen. Even if they aren’t as recognisable here as they are back home, Junmyeon’s still (allegedly) dressed like a model and Chanyeol’s a head above mostly everyone. They’d attract attention whatever they did. There’s almost as much novelty in just spending time alone with Junmyeon as there is in the purpose of it. 

They agree on hot coffee from a vending machine at the park exit and take turns to subtly swig from it. Junmyeon directs Chanyeol on how to stand just-so under a street light and takes ‘the best photo you’ll have on your Instagram’. (“Hold the coffee in view. No, lower. More angles. So pretty but so sloppy, Chanyeollie,” Junmyeon said, and Chanyeol was relieved for the low lighting).

 

“This was, uh. Nice?” Chanyeol turns the empty coffee tin in his hand while they wait to cross. It’s dark on this side of the road and the glow from the station and stores within it are shining across like christmas lights. “Thanks for the date. I think. Not so much for all the harassment earlier.”

Junmyeon smiles, hands stuffed in his pockets. “You’re welcome for both. Even if you didn’t like one of them.” He stubs the heel of his shoe into the gap between paving stones. “We didn’t really have the opportunity to do _everything_ I’d normally do with a travel companion, unfortunately.”

Chanyeol snorts. “What, like visit the same place twice to see how it looks wh-” The thin metal of the coffee tin crackles from the pressure of Chanyeol’s grip. Junmyeon’s hand is in his back pocket. “Hyung,” he exhales slowly, thankful he didn’t make a sound. Junmyeon just side eyes him: _What_?

It’s almost hard to take it seriously with Junmyeon wearing his stupid floppy hat, and the simple fact it’s Junmyeon. Junmyeon who Chanyeol has known since his teens, is so goddamn beautiful and oh _fuck_ his fingers are _kneading_ - 

“Oh, the light,” Junmyeon says, “Let’s go.” And the pressure is gone, and so is Chanyeol’s ability to say or do anything.

Junmyeon uses his pass in the embossed leather case while Chanyeol’s still trying to wrestle enough focus away from his dick and back to remembering kana so he can find his way home on the map. Junmyeon’s looking at patterned umbrellas in a bucket when Chanyeol joins him. “I forgot to say something romantic to you as the sun set,” he pouts, “You like that kind of thing.”

“I can ride with you to your transfer and then give you directions,” Chanyeol replies. He does.

Three stops along the Chuo line Junmyeon falls asleep on Chanyeol’s shoulder with a gentle bump. For a moment Chanyeol thinks it’s a purposeful act of subtle affection, stretching their silly little deal out until the last moment. But Junmyeon starts to sag, so Chanyeol shifts in his seat to better support him. By the time Junmyeon is far away with Jongin, Chanyeol will probably still be here, just travelling around aimlessly.

The train is heated even though it was a mild day, and soon the warmth of Junmyeon’s jacket starts to seep through Chanyeol’s hoodie. He fidgets through the discomfort for a moment, but then realises having your head down like you’re sleeping is actually a pretty good way to avoid getting stared at. The next thing Chanyeol knows he has pain like a dagger in his neck and a face full of Junmyeon’s hat. He’s nearly knocked it off his head with the weight of leaning on him.

“Oh. Shit, where..” he fumbles groggily for his phone. They’ve both been out for twenty minutes. “Hyung. Junmyeonnie-hyung,” Chanyeol wakes him unceremoniously, dragging him up to his feet before he’s conscious enough to use them. Chanyeol wraps a tight arm around his waist and pulls him close, pulling him onto the platform. “We have to transfer back the other way.”

“Why?” Junmyeon’s whiny when he’s sleepy. He lets Chanyeol drag him across to the line forming on the opposite side, then as soon as they’re stationary again presses his face into Chanyeol’s shoulder. “Why-y-y.”

Chanyeol cups the back of Junmyeon’s head instinctively when he feels him rolling away. He hopes they just look drunk. “We fell asleep and missed your transfer. And it’s late, and..” With some squinting he reads the orange writing scrolling on the board in the distance. “Looks like the last express train misses that stop. But I’m not sure they’ll run as far as you need to go even if we catch the next one.”

“Oh,” Junmyeon smushes his cheek harder against Chanyeol’s shoulder. Considering it’s Junmyeon that has the schedule tomorrow, he could do his own share of the panicking here.

“We could go part way. To the transfer station, then you could get a cab. It’ll be pretty expensive, but,” Well, Junmyeon’s outfit is more than pretty expensive and he looks like an old woman heading to a golf club, so whatever. Chanyeol shuffles them forward a little, aware of the growing lack of space from the amount of chatter behind them. He manages his anxiety a lot better these days, but crowds..at least they’re near the front, backs to all those faces.

With effort, Junmyeon lifts his head enough to give Chanyeol a huffy little pout. “‘m your boyfriend, jerk,” he grumbles. His hands paw at Chanyeol’s stomach, right where the spike of panic just drove through, “Just let me stay with you. I’ll catch the first train in the morning and meet Junghoon at the airport.”

“It’s not my apartment.” 

Junmyeon wriggles. “Is someone else in it?”

“No, but I didn’t ask if it was ok to let anyone else in.”

“But I’m your-”

“It belongs to a producer friend, so he might not want..people he doesn’t know in there, you know?

“A producer friend,” Junmyeon repeats back with purposeful emphasis, because he’s a dick. His stupid fleecy jacket is making Chanyeol too hot where they’re pressed close, and Chanyeol’s intensely aware of it from the second of cool relief as the train breezes in. “Chanyeollie, I’m not interested in anything in your producer friend’s home other than you.” 

“Shut up. Shut the-” they jostle forward. “Don’t say a fucking word while we’re on this train.”

Junmyeon makes a very loud, very obnoxious sound close to his ear. Chanyeol has terrible taste in men.

 

“You don’t have to do what my boyfriends usually would at this point,” Junmyeon says, then beams like that’s really fucking funny. He made a sleepy, bumbling beeline for the first bed he saw after Chanyeol let him in, shedding layers as he went. Chanyeol’s lying on the bed with him because it’s _his_ bed, but Junmyeon evidently isn’t taking the protest as a sign that he’s getting the couch.

“I knew this was a bad idea,” Chanyeol sighs. He’s flat on his back with his jeans kicked off and his socks still on. Junmyeon definitely lost a few layers, but he still looks fully dressed.

Junmyeon makes a sound in disagreement, wriggling until he’s close enough to headbutt Chanyeol’s shoulder in protest. He’s sleepy like he’s drunk. That way he gets when he’s tipsy and all fuzzy and giggly, like he wants to curl up in someone’s pocket and be carried away safe and warm. Junmyeon’s totally relaxed, Chanyeol realises, and wishes they could have synced a little better in that.

“And frankly I’m offended you don’t know me better than to think I put out on a first date.”

A sly grin. “I know you perfectly, Chanyeol. A _stranger_ you wouldn’t, butyour first date with a long-term connection that’s fallen for you..” Junmyeon suddenly props up on an elbow. Chanyeol blinks at him, and Junmyeon tilts his head. “Do you know how?”

A large part of Chanyeol wants to push him off the bed. But it’s the small, nervous part that’s never known how to ask for help that says, “In theory, I think.”

Junmyeon’s pink lips press together sweetly. It’s embarrassing he’s finding this entire situation adorable, but Chanyeol’s kind of been waiting since he was 17 for Junmyeon to think that about him. “Ah. I’m sure you’ll find a nice patient guy that’s happy to help you figure it out in practice. I’m demanding, so I’m told. And impatient, and greedy.” 

Chanyeol rolls his eyes. “And charming.” 

The tip of Junmyeon’s tongue pokes out. “Boys like you that are less assertive..I can make exceptions. If I feel like it.” He cuddles closer, slipping an arm around Chanyeol and gripping a handful of Chanyeol’s shirt, because his arm doesn’t fully encircle him. “Anyway, I spend all my time looking after other people and being in charge. Don’t I deserve to lie back and be spoiled if the offer is there?” 

There’s an image. Chanyeol’s been mentally repeating Junghoon’s name all day so he doesn’t forget it, and it springs to the front of his mind. Not that one, Junmyeon said. He actively tries to forget it, turning and pressing half of his warm face into the pillow. “Junmyeonnie-hyung, we’ve spent ten years not talking about this.” 

“And you spent at least five of them talking about wanting to marry a nice girl and looking like you’d faint whenever Sehunnie joked about men with you.”

Well. Yeah. It’d pain Chanyeol to accept Junmyeon excluded him because he was sending out _please don’t talk to me_ signals, so instead he says, “What were you saying about boys like me? Gotta know my options.” It’s not flirting on his part and not teasing on Junmyeon’s - playful or unkind, neither of those. It’s being included. Not like with Sehun, how Chanyeol knew they’d kiss sometimes, 2014 before Junmyeon was bold and Sehun was brave. It’s being let in. It should be enough. But Chanyeol didn’t get a 2014.

Junmyeon smiles sleepily, dropping his hand to vaguely pat over Chanyeol’s toned stomach. For all Chanyeol knows he could be Junmyeon’s ideal type, but they’ve been seeing each other naked and massaging all the awkward unreachable sprains since they were teenagers, and it’s just mundane now. “Chanyeollie, you’re big and strong and a people pleaser, you’d figure it out fast enough.” Junmyeon glances across at him, like he’s measuring up how well Chanyeol’s taking this. Flicks his eyes back to the ceiling, licks his lower lip. “I’d just ride you. Look at you, Chanyeollie,” he pats him again, not looking. “If you were mine I’d just.. _climb on_ doesn’t sound sexy, does it.”

“Please don’t ever say that word,” Chanyeol says hoarsely, suddenly so hot he feels damp under his clothes. Like he ate all that pink ginger from their lunch in one go and the sweaty chills hit him. “I am. Yours. Until tomorrow,” he stares at Junmyeon’s lips and the mole above them and ignores the pain in his gut. “So think of something better.”

The body thing - mundane. The rest, less so. Junmyeon’s painfully handsome, in control, has the voice of an angel, and was Chanyeol’s first ever sexuality crisis. Firsts have a tendency to stay meaningful.

He’s also fucking _awful_ , which he demonstrates with a wrinkle of his nose that could well be a wink that went awry. “Park Chanyeol. Are you trying to have a workplace affair?” 

“Neither of us are in our place of work.” They’re in his producer friend (just a friend)’s apartment, in Japan, and none of this has felt real. “This is forgotten about tomorrow, right? All of it’s just..it didn’t happen.”

“And then I’ll be in Australia,” Junmyeon reminds him. There’s a hesitancy to his smile. “All forgotten about.”

Chanyeol wants to say good, that’s the end of it, but all he can do is watch and wait. Junmyeon kisses his cheek. It’s soft, careful. Pitying. The heat in his chest doesn’t erupt into anger, it just burns deeper down and simmers in his stomach. There’s another kiss, this time to the sensitive skin just below his ear, at the same time as Junmyeon’s palm slides over his chest, and the rush is overwhelming. Chanyeol’s either reflexively responding to arousal with shame or he’s about to throw up. He’s in love and so horny it’s making him emotional, and he’s going to throw up. The full teenage experience he missed out on.

“Chanyeollie,” Junmyeon murmurs, brushing his hair back from his eyes. The skin-warm silver around his finger grazes Chanyeol’s skin. “Is it alright if I kiss your mouth?” 

Nothing sounds more terrifying about this whole thing than having to be responsible for giving Junmyeon permission. While Chanyeol’s deliberating Junmyeon squeezes his hand. Chanyeol nods, unsure it’s even an answer to what he thinks until Junmyeon kisses him and pulls back with more questions and kisses him more. Your neck, Junmyeon asks, is it alright to use tongue, is it alright to lift your shirt. It’s as humiliating as it is arousing to have to agree each time. It’s to keep Chanyeol safe, he knows, he knows Junmyeon understands how helplessly delicate his heart is. It’s only embarrassing because he thinks he’d say yes to anything, and it feels like eventually he’ll hit the trick question, and Junmyeon will laugh.  

Junmyeon probably _is_ smiling; Chanyeol wouldn’t know, because his burning face has been behind his hands since the kisses trailed lower. He isn’t being unkind, though, he’s giving Chanyeol everything he’s been too scared to ask anyone for. And if he’s smug about it, he’s entitled to be.

“You’re actually pretty adorable,” Junmyeon says, and it’s a shame Chanyeol’s too preoccupied by the heat of his mouth to really enjoy it. “I know everyone but me could already see that. Must have just needed you in the right circumstances.” He runs his thumb down the centre of Chanyeol’s stomach, in the ridge between muscles, then kneads circles beside his hip. “Can I go lower?” 

Abruptly the thrill dies, and Chanyeol’s just left with the nerves trying to jolt him out of his hot skin. “Wait- wait, please.” 

And of course Junmyeon does, withdrawing enough to give Chanyeol space but remaining close. He folds his hands gently over Chanyeol’s chest. “You’re ok,” he says, “Was that too far?”

“God. Fuck.” Junmyeon can probably feel his heart hammering. “I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t just. I couldn’t meet someone and do this and then not know what happens next.”

“Mm. Better to know that now than find out later?” Junmyeon’s smile is kind. He rests his chin on his hands. Something about the position and his floppy hair makes him looks reassuringly puppyish. “When you have a big handsome Italian man in bed with you rather than me.”

Chanyeol laughs, but it sounds exactly how he feels - like his whole body is constricting too tight for the air to get out. “So what do I do? Just keep fantasising about it like a teenager? Into my thirties?” 

Normally Junmyeon shushing him would be infuriating. “People have successful relationships, Chanyeollie. Look how different me and Sehunnie are? I like having a lot of people in my life that I don’t have to commit myself to because work comes first, and we all understand that. Sehunnie is waiting for someone special enough to make lifestyle changes for.” 

“What if I want both,” Chanyeol sounds whinier than he meant to. He’s surprised he hasn’t cried yet, to be honest. “I want to commit. And be loved. But by a lot of people. And I want dick.”

“You have good priorities,” Junmyeon says with an approving pat of his hand, “You know when I offered I didn’t have anything like this in mind. You do, right?”

Chanyeol nods. “It was my fault. I saw an opportunity to make it leading and see what happened. And then I panicked when it did happen.”

Junmyeon giggles softly. “You’re very responsive, I have to say. Please don’t tell me I just took your first kiss.”

Chanyeol makes a sound, mouth twisting. “First boy kiss.”

Junmyeon bursts into laughter at that, still soft. He drops his head to Chanyeol’s chest, hugging him tight while he wriggles the amusement out of his system. He presses a kiss there, hot skin through fabric. “I’m sorry I didn’t know that. I’d have made it more special.”

Chanyeol shakes his head minutely, not enough movement to disturb Junmyeon. First boy crush, first boy crisis, first boy kiss. “It was nice. Until the panicking part.”

“Maybe that’s because it’s me,” Junmyeon suggests, “It’s weird if it’s me, I guess.”

And no that’s really, really missing the mark. There’s no not-weird way to say he hasn’t fantasised about Junmyeon in, you know, like six or so years, but touching his ass on stage over the last tour was maybe some wish fulfilment. “I panicked because the idea of it not being you was scary,” Chanyeol admits, “This has..been surprisingly helpful for future reference.”

“Good.” Junmyeon makes a move to sit up, but it doesn’t take much grumbling and clinging to keep him in place. Chanyeol thinks he suddenly looks a little flushed, glancing away as he says, “You could definitely ask Sehunnie for advice, too. If you need..you’d probably be more comfortable with him explaining anything more, um. Technical?” He tries. 

“Like- oh.” Chanyeol lets Junmyeon go in favour of trying to cool his heating cheeks down with his palms. There are words he definitely couldn’t listen to Junmyeon say if he wants to continue having a career with him. “Yeah. Cool. If he’s ok with it.” 

Junmyeon looks relieved. “Yeah. It’s probably for the best that stopped where it did.”

“How much further was it headed?” Chanyeol’s genuinely curious and a little deflated at the realisation he might have actually got to touch a dick if he hadn’t panicked. An actual hard dick. Who it’s attached to is only part of the shame in the moment being over.

“The thing is, Chanyeollie, I’m contractually obliged to be committed to you. And I love you,” Junmyeon says so easily the pukey feeling comes right back, stopping Chanyeol from interrupting, “And I don’t want to do anything that’s going to..I don’t know, haunt you or anything, once today is over. You’re weird like that.”

“I just have enough sentimentality to make up for your lack of it. Balances the group out.”

Junmyeon shrugs in agreement. He starts working the ring off his finger by twisting it around. “I just mean I don’t want you video calling while I’m holding a koala or something to have a half hour heart-to-heart about your feelings on naked men.”

Fair enough. Chanyeol can’t deny that isn’t an accurate prediction. “Can we have that conversation at a more convenient time?” he asks, following Junmyeon’s cue to start getting ready to sleep.

It’s not exactly embarrassing getting changed with Junmyeon in the room - they’ve showered together enough times, let alone the lack of privacy in a shared dorm and cramped backstage dressing rooms - but Chanyeol still turns away. He’s comfortable with his body right now, but it’s shy from being touched. Forgetting the wet kiss to the centre of his chest will take longer than a day.

Somewhere between being lost in the swampy inside of his hoodie and diving into an equally roomy t-shirt, Chanyeol hears, “Of course we can.”

“Did I stop being your boyfriend at midnight, or is the deal still good until tomorrow morning?” he asks, stepping on the toe of a sock to tug it off and repeating.

“If you want to cuddle that’s free to friends too.” Junmyeon pauses thoughtfully with his ugly beige pants hanging from one knee. “Little spoon position is a dating benefit.”

Chanyeol bundle-folds his hoodie, leaving one arm hanging out. He drops it over the back of the chair, hears the thud of Junmyeon’s belt hitting the floor. “What if I wanted more kisses?”

It’s worth being brave enough to turn back and face Junmyeon. He’s every bit as praise hungry as Chanyeol, and he looks pleased about getting a repeat request. He’s so little settling in the centre of the double bed. Guy bodies are. Different, and solid, and nice. Chanyeol suddenly understands how the whole _lying back if the offer is there_ thing works so effectively for Junmyeon.

“Still good until tomorrow morning,” Junmyeon smiles warmly. Chanyeol is definitely not making it to the end of today without crying.

 

 

If he’d been less trusting or his mouth had been less occupied, Chanyeol would have joked that Junmyeon isn’t allowed to skip out on him like a one night stand. Well, maybe it’s not a matter of trust, just hope. Unfortunately Chanyeol isn’t actually wrong about Junmyeon all that often.

He blearily feels across the bed as far as he can reach and finds it empty and long gone cold. The blinds have been closed and Chanyeol neither feels like he’s had enough sleep or like he’s prepared for any early morning emotions. He plants back into the pillow and sleeps until midday.

 

Chanyeol’s phone has been left on the pillow, is the first thing he realises when he’s awake for the second time. Very awake - he’d felt on the nightstand and there was no phone, so he immediately panicked. Spread over several hours in his notifications are stickers from Junmyeon, just the same speech bubble that reads ‘new text’ over and over. Yawning, Chanyeol unlocks his phone and just goes to their chat rather than trying to scroll through and find the one important notification.

Ah, got it. 

[I had to catch my flight! I couldn’t leave you a note on the fridge!! I wasn’t unromantic on purpose! I didnt want to look through any of producer friend’s things!]

Chanyeol smiles and rubs his palm over his face, trying to clear the sleep from his eyes. Fine, he wasn’t just being awful. Junmyeon will be busy now and won’t notice if Chanyeol’s read his message or not, so he uses his avoidance as motivation to get out of bed.

While he’s showering Chanyeol thinks up around eight different ways to subtly imply he’s learned from yesterday and will be going out boyfriend hunting today (he won’t), considers and reconsiders if it’s appropriate to make jokes about them dating. He scrapes back his wet hair and thinks about the hot water washing the kisses away, and maybe Junmyeon made a good point about how sex would stay with Chanyeol long beyond their agreement.

Chanyeol eats at the counter and checks on everything else that’s happened while he was asleep. He checks the cherry blossom map again, just in case. Junmyeon loves him too, huh. Obviously he does - they all love each other, whether they like it or not - but..he’s been strange recently. Gone out of his way for Chanyeol in different ways than he used to. Even if he forgot to, he attempted to be romantic _twice_.

There are no new cherry blossom reports. Chanyeol’s up too late for sightseeing being worthwhile but too early for anyone to be free for meeting up. Maybe he could just go to Ginza and send Junmyeon pictures he won’t be able to post on Instagram yet, because people will talk. He’ll probably have to start getting used to that.

[What do you need to be romantic for, hyung] Chanyeol sends. It’s the last thing he does before leaving, checking twice that the door is locked. He pulls his hood up and makes for the stairs. Two floors down and he’s stopped, phone back out and hunched against the cold wall to leave space should anyone else come by. [Do you mind if I start a (fake) dating rumour?]

 

[Trial run ^ - ^] Junmyeon has replied when the signal comes back on Chanyeol’s phone from the underground section of the train line. 

Yeah, with some practice he can probably do this.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading ! ☀ I am on [twt](https://twitter.com/taonsil) ❀ [cc](https://curiouscat.me/suyeols) 24/7 crying about suyeol and queer things, often simultaneously


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